


greatness in the make

by hatrack



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatrack/pseuds/hatrack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hope gets on the train, she breathes a sigh of relief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> comments, question, prompts and ideas welcome.

When Hope gets on the train, she breathes a sigh of relief. The summer was chaotic and tense, as all time with her family is, and even daily owls from Carli couldn't alleviate the stress. Now, having awkwardly kissed her family goodbye, boarded the Hogwarts Express and immediately changed into her robes and green-and-silver tie, Hope feels the tension leave her shoulders. Sitting back, she stares out the window at the rolling green hills, and lets a smile curve the corners of her lips upwards. She's finally going back.

She's a sixth-year now, and beyond ready to dominate the school. Last year her Head of House made her a prefect, despite some minor disciplinary issues (to be honest, she thinks he admires her willingness to stick up for herself, be it with words, fists or curses), and Hope enjoys the power that grants her. She's also secure in her position as the feared and revered Keeper for Slytherin's Quidditch team—doubly secure, in fact, now that Carli holds the Captain badge. Glancing over at Carli, who she had made a point of finding as soon as she stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, Hope grins. 

Carli gives her a look. "What?" 

"Nothing," Hope tells her. "Just excited."

Carli nods, and a matching grin creeps onto her face. For a moment, they just look at each other, smiling.

Together, they play Exploding Snap and eat Chocolate Frogs, trading for the cards they don't have. In a little while, Lori, another sixth-year, and Megan, a fifth-year and Lori's best friend, come in and hang out with them. They talk about their summers, Quidditch—Carli and Lori are the Slytherin Beaters, while Megan is now their only Chaser—and classes they're looking forward to, wondering idly who will be in what N.E.W.T. subjects. Megan groans out loud at the mere prospect. 

About halfway through the trip, there's a knock on the door, and Hope turns her head to see Amy LePeilbet, a Hufflepuff sixth-year, just outside. For her first couple years at Hogwarts, Hope considered Hufflepuffs slow and weak—both on the field and off—but after seeing Amy as a Beater for the first time in their third year, she had had to rethink that stereotype. Now, though Amy is genuinely quiet and shy, Hope can't help but be wary of her and the rest of the Hufflepuff team.

Megan's closest, so she opens the door. "Hey," Megan says coolly. She still hasn't forgotten the broken wrist she received after Amy hit a Bludger at her during a match last year. "Hey," Amy responds, slightly nervously. She glances at Hope. "Christie wants to see all the prefects." 

Hope nods and gets to her feet, and follows Amy out into the corridor. They don't talk as they make their way down to the front compartment. When they get there, they find a number of quietly chatting fifth-, sixth- and seventh-years, all wearing black robes, colored ties and silver prefect badges. Christie, a seventh-year Gryffindor wearing a shiny Head Girl badge, sits at the head of the compartment. She nods to Hope and Amy when they enter, and, once they're seated, clears her throat.

"Welcome. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Christie Pearce and I'm Head Girl this year. I wanted to introduce myself to you all, welcome you back to Hogwarts and go over the duties and responsibilities you will be expected to fulfill this year. For many of you this will be just a reminder, but fifth-years, listen closely. Now, as written in your letter, prefects are…"

Christie continues talking, but Hope tunes her out and instead surveys her fellow prefects. She nods hello to the prefects she remembers from last year: sixth-year Nicole Barnhart, from Ravenclaw, sixth-year Christine Sinclair, from Gryffindor, and seventh-year Shannon Boxx, also from Gryffindor. She's startled but not really surprised to see that Diana Matheson is the newest Slytherin prefect—despite her small stature, she is more than capable of establishing and enforcing authority on the younger students, even if they're a foot taller than her. She's also unsurprised to see that Ali Krieger, from Hufflepuff, and Rachel Buehler, from Ravenclaw, are the other fifth-year prefects. (She doesn't recognize the girl from Gryffindor. To be honest, Hope doesn't know many people who aren't sixth-years, Slytherins or Quidditch players, and she doesn't especially care to). 

"…but, all that being said, I fully expect that all of you can and will carry out your duties well. And remember, if you have any questions or concerns, you can always come talk to me." Christie finishes up, gives a smile, and dismisses them. Hope slips out the door without talking to anybody, and is almost back to her compartment when Diana catches up to her. 

"Hey, Solo," she calls. Hope turns. "Hey, shorty," she responds, smirking. "Nice badge."

Diana glares at her. "First strike," she says. Diana has become famous for her strike system, which she created only last year: three comments about her height, and she exacts revenge. Megan was the first to feel its effects. As Diana's roommate and teammate and one-half of the Slytherin mischief-making team (with Lori, naturally, as the other half), Megan had kept up a near-constant stream of witticisms about Diana's stature until a fateful Wednesday morning, when Megan had awoke magically taped to the Astronomy Tower with pink hair and wearing footie pajamas with little hearts that read "I Love Diana" all over them. To this day, Diana refuses to tell anyone how she had done it, and Megan has never teased her since. 

Hope isn't worried. She likes teasing Diana, but not enough to risk her wrath. "What's up, Di?" she asks, continuing to stroll down the corridor. Diana walks with her. "I was wondering when Quidditch tryouts will be," she says. Hope looks at her incredulously. "Are you actually worried about those? You're the best Seeker we've had in years. There's no way Carli would cut you," she says. Diana waves her hand in the air as if to bat away Hope's words, but she blushes. "Not worried," she mutters. "I just like watching. Plus, we need two Chasers. That's a big deal."

They stop by Hope's compartment. Hope opens the door and asks Carli, "Any idea when tryouts will be? D's worried about Chasers." Carli shrugs. "I'll post it on the common room by tomorrow," she promises. Diana nods and walks back to her compartment, waving to Hope. 

Hope sits in her spot by the window and stares out. It's getting darker, but night hasn't fallen yet. "How far away are we?" she asks. Lori says, "I asked the lady with the cart when she came by a couple minutes ago. About forty-five minutes, she said." Hope nods. Silence falls over the compartment. Megan and Lori change, and curl up together, talking quietly. Carli reads, one foot bouncing up and down restlessly. Hope keeps looking out the window, searching in the darkness for the familiar castle. 

Only Carli knows how much she's missed Hogwarts. It's her home far more than any house she's ever lived in, and she cherishes her time there. She loves Quidditch, loves her classes (especially Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions, which she excels in), loves her friends and teammates. She's been waiting all summer to come back. 

Finally, the train bumps to a stop. They gather their things, drag their trunks off the racks, and flood out of the compartments and off the train. Hope, Carli, Lori and Megan find a carriage, and Hope can't suppress her excitement as it carries her up the hill to the castle.

She's home.


	2. Tobin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, question, prompts and ideas welcome.

Abby groans. "Ashlyn, I know it's the first night back at school, but would you please shut up?" she asks, throwing a piece of Cockroach Cluster at Ashlyn's head and narrowly missing. The chocolate lands in the fire and sparks a burst of blue flame. Ashlyn turns around and grins. She's sitting in front of the fireplace in one of the comfy armchairs, roasting marshmallows with Tobin and Heather. Always boisterous, Ashlyn's excitement at seeing her friends again and happiness at being back at school gives her an enormous adrenaline boost that results in her singing Irish pub songs at the top of her lungs with a terrible accent. Heather is laughing hysterically, so much so that her marshmallow is seriously threatening to fall into the fire, and Tobin is snickering at the entire situation: Abby's irritated face on one side of the room, Ashlyn's terrible singing and the sheer delight in her dimpled smile, Heather with her head thrown back. 

"No, I don't think I will, thanks all the same," Ashlyn replies cheekily, winking at Abby and resuming, even louder. Abby sighs loudly, feigning defeat, and makes sure Ashlyn's back is turned before she looks across the table at Sinc, who is now smirking at her. "Shall we?" Abby asks in an undertone, though there's no chance of Ashlyn hearing her over the racket she's making. Sinc's smirk turns positively wicked. "Of course," she replies. Together, they sneak over to where Ashlyn, Heather and Tobin are sitting. When Tobin turns, Abby hurriedly puts her finger to her lips, and Tobin grins at her, glancing to Ashlyn quickly. The two of them crouch down behind Ashlyn's chair. 

"NOW!" Abby yells. She and Sinc jump up and push on Ashlyn's shoulders, shoving her out of the chair. Sinc grabs the marshmallow stick from Ashlyn's hand while Abby tackles Ashlyn, pinning her to the ground and sitting on her stomach. Ashlyn flails helplessly, protesting with a smile, but her words are difficult to hear over the laughter in the room. Standing over them with a wide grin, Christine slides the marshmallow—puffy and melting—off the end of Ashlyn's stick, and stuffs it in Ashlyn's mouth. Heather actually falls out of her chair laughing.

There's general chaos as Ashlyn swallows the marshmallow, wrestles Abby off her and begins chasing Abby and Sinc around the room, all the while laughing hysterically. Heather is rolling around on the floor; Christie, as the responsible one, looks on with an amused smile; and Tobin still sits in her armchair, giggling to herself and watching her friends. Over in the corner, Ashlyn gives a yell of triumph as she steals the bag of marshmallows from a scared-looking second year and begins pelting Abby with them. 

Tobin's smile widens, and she relaxes back into her chair. She's missed this.

The next morning, Tobin wakes up before the rest of her roommates. She spends what seems like a long time but may only be a few minutes staring up at the ceiling of her red canopy. Tobin loves it here, but in a quieter, less imposing way than Ashlyn or Abby or even Christie. She goes for walks around the grounds frequently, usually by herself, and often sits and thinks, gazing out over the lake. Sometimes, when she listens closely, she swears she can hear a gentle vibration in the air. More than Quidditch, more than her classes, even at times more than her friends, she loves the magic, the way it feels in her body. At Hogwarts, it surrounds her, puts her at peace.

She lies in bed, thinking, until she hears a crash from a nearby dormitory. Tobin smiles. Ashlyn's up. 

When she goes down to breakfast, the first thing she does is find Kelley. Kelley's been her best friend since they met in flying classes their parents put them in when they were small. Kelley, of course, had leapt onto the first broom she saw and took off, regardless of the fact that she didn't know how to steer, control the broom or land. The first two she figured out pretty quickly. The third she tackled with her usual abandon, leaving her with a broken ankle. 

At first Tobin had been surprised that Kelley was Sorted into Ravenclaw. Though her friend is by no means dumb, she does tend to act like a three-year-old, and Tobin thought her loyalty, bravery, kindness and general love for the world would place her in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. She imagined herself, on the other hand, in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Though she counted loyalty among her priorities, she didn't think her quiet, patient nature would fit in Gryffindor. Still, she was wrong on both accounts, and now she's glad about it: Kelley loves Ravenclaw just as much as she loves Gryffindor.

After acquiring her schedule from her Head of House, Tobin looks around for Kelley. Naturally, she finds her at the Ravenclaw table, talking animatedly to her friends. When Tobin taps her on the shoulder, Kelley glances up at her, smiles and makes room for her. Tobin sits down between her and Christen, another fourth-year. When Kelley finishes her story, there's a burst of laughter, and Kelley, grinning widely, turns to Tobin.

"Hey cutie pie. How's it going?" Kelley asks, casually wrapping her arm around Tobin's shoulder and giving her a quick squeeze. They spent two weeks together over the summer, but it wasn't enough. Not for them. Tobin wraps her arm around Kelley's waist and squeezes back. "Not much. Can I see your schedule?" she asks.

Kelley hands it to her, and goes back to talking to Becky, a fifth-year who listens to Kelley ramble with an air of amusement. Tobin compares their schedules. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have Transfiguration and Herbology together, with Transfiguration first thing that morning, and Kelley is taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes when Tobin is taking Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies—another example, Tobin thinks, of Kelley's strange, well-hidden genius. Tobin continues reading Kelley's schedule. When she gets to the bottom, she does a double-take.

"You're tutoring?" Tobin hadn't meant to sound so astonished, but the idea of Kelley teaching anybody, secret genius though she is, is shocking. Kelley looks up from her pancakes, which she has carved into a butterfly with a smiling face and elaborate wings, and grins. "Always the tone of surprise," she says cheerfully. "Yeah, in Charms. It's my best subject, and I did a little studying this summer, so I'm taking a N.E.W.T. class now." 

Tobin does another double-take, this time at the schedule. Sure enough, there it is: N.E.W.T. Charms. "Wow. That's really cool, Kell," she says. Kelley shrugs, but she's blushing. "Are you going to get paid or anything?" Tobin asks. 

"Nah. It's actually an exchange thing—the girl I'm tutoring in Charms is going to tutor me in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Kelley says, scooping up some syrup with half of one of the pancake wings. "We start...Wednesday, I think."

"Who are you tutoring?" Tobin asks. Kelley shrugs again. "Some Slytherin girl. A sixth-year. I don't remember her name," she says unconcernedly. 

The bell rings, and they get up hurriedly for Transfiguration. As Tobin, Kelley and Christen are walking, Kristie Mewis, another Gryffindor fourth-year, joins them. Out of breath, she pants for a couple moments, then asks Tobin, "Do you know when the first Quidditch tryouts will be?"

Tobin has to think for a moment. Abby, a sixth-year who's one of the best Chasers in the school, is Captain this year, and that morning she had called a quiet conference of the previous year's team in a corner of the common room. Above all, Abby is fair, so even experienced players have to try out again. Tobin's been the Seeker for the past two years, but she still feels a prickle of nerves in her stomach at the idea of tryouts. "I think they're going to be Saturday morning," she tells Kristie. 

Kristie nods and thanks her. "Are you trying out?" Tobin asks. Again, Tobin is embarrassed by her own surprise. Kristie's fast, and good at flying. "I mean, why haven't you tried out before?"

Kristie sighs. "Parents. They're worried it'll affect my grades too much. Plus, I had to promise I wouldn't 'get into mischief' with Syd." Kristie's best friend, Sydney, is another fourth-year, a Slytherin, and together they're one of the most dangerous prankster teams in the school. Despite its rarity, Tobin thinks, the Gryffindor/Slytherin combination is one of the most dynamic. She herself isn't close friends with any Slytherins, though she likes Sydney. "Will Sydney try out for the Slytherin team?" Tobin asks, silently hoping for a no—Sydney would be a powerful weapon. But Kristie nods. "We both want to be Chasers," Kristie says. "We practiced together all summer."

At any rate, Tobin thinks, Kristie's strength will balance out Sydney's. The Gryffindor team needs a Chaser, she knows—all but one of last year's team returned. Tobin is the Seeker, Christie and Heather are formidable Beaters, and Sinc and Abby are the top scorers in the school, though Kelley and Megan consistently give them a run for their money. Ashlyn, normally so boisterous and cheerful, becomes eerily tough and serious as their Keeper. Last year they had won the Quidditch Cup, narrowly beating out the Hufflepuffs, who have an uncharacteristically ferocious team. The memory brings a smile to Tobin's face, and she's still smiling as they slip into their seats in the Transfiguration classroom.

After class, Tobin and Kristie eat lunch together, then make their way down to the grounds beside the Forbidden Forest for Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. Kristie is prattling on about the time she and Sydney snuck out of the castle to go adventuring in the Forest and almost died—she talks almost as much as Kelley, Tobin thinks—and Tobin is relieved when they get down to the grounds and Kristie goes to join Sydney. Trailing after her, taking deep breaths of the already-cool air, Tobin almost trips over tree roots. She catches herself, checks that no one noticed her falling, and catches up to Kristie and Sydney just as Sydney looks around, sees something, and yells, "Over here!" 

Turning, Tobin sees a girl about her height, with long, pretty dark hair, running towards her. She's fast, with long strides, and Tobin idly notes that the girl reminds her of a colt. When the girl reaches them, Sydney asks, "Got yourself lost between the Great Hall and here, A?" 

The girl sticks out her tongue at Sydney, but blushes at the same time. "No," she says. Her voice is higher than Tobin thought it would be, but it's husky at the same time. "This school isn't as easy as you said it would be, Syd," she admonishes. Sydney laughs, and moves to introduce the girl.

"Y'all, this is Alex Morgan. She's a fresh-faced, innocent new girl at Hogwarts, just arrived here this year, so be nice to her, okay? Alex, this is Kristie, that crazy chick I was telling you about, and this is Tobin. They're in Gryffindor, but we forgive them that. Not everyone is cool enough to be in Slytherin," Sydney says, doing her hair in a long braid down her back. Kristie smacks her on the shoulder, and Sydney laughs. Alex sticks out her hand to shake Kristie's hand, then Tobin's. Tobin blinks at her. Up close, she's an interesting sight. Somehow she manages to look both innocent and mischievous, sweet and sassy, wide-eyed and all-knowing. When Alex's smile turns questioning, Tobin realizes she's been staring.

"Sorry," she says, letting go of Alex's hand and clearing her throat. Alex smiles. "You're good," she responds. When their teacher calls for their attention, and they begin to file down to where he is, Tobin glances back at her. Alex is watching her. 

Their lesson that day consists of a short presentation on Kneazles, and the announcement of a long-term cross-breeding project. They'll be put into pairs, and each will be assigned a Kneazle and a cat that they will have to care for (both in and out of class, which earns a groan from the students) and breed. The kittens will be sold to raise money for new supplies and animals. Sydney and Kristie end up together, naturally, and by some twist of fate so do Tobin and Alex. When the teacher states this, Tobin can't help sneaking a look at Alex. Her mouth is thoughtful, but her eyes are smiling. 

Tobin's not sure why she's so excited about this project. But she is.


	3. Ali

The Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts are held early, before those of any other House. On Friday afternoon, Ali gets to the pitch immediately after Potions ends so she can fly around a bit by herself and get comfortable before the tryouts start. She's not really worried—she's been the Hufflepuff Seeker for two years, ever since she was a third-year—but Hufflepuffs are nothing if not fair, and there's always a chance someone can overtake her. Ali doesn't care for superiority, for better and best and even better than best, so she would never say she's the best Seeker Hufflepuff has. She just cares about winning. 

Last year, the loss to Gryffindor had been narrow. She still winces when she thinks about it. Though Gryffindor has the formidable combination of Wambach and Sinclair, two of the most powerful Chasers in the school, the Hufflepuff Keeper, current fifth-year Jill Loyden, had been more than a match for them—at least for a while. Boxxy, now a seventh-year Beater and the Quidditch Captain, had held off Pearce; Amy, as the other Beater, had held off Heather O'Reilly; and, though they lacked Gryffindor's dominating presence, current fifth- and fourth-years Sarah Huffman and Whitney Engen had performed well as the team's youngest Chasers. (Though Ali had privately wished that the game hadn't been against Gryffindor—Sarah is always liable to distraction when a certain Chaser is on the pitch). In reality, Ali thinks, Abby and Christine weren't the reason Gryffindor had won, though they were a large part of it. Jill blamed herself, Ali knows, but she doesn't need to. If Ali had caught the Snitch instead of Tobin, they would've won. If Ali hadn't been just a moment too late. If she'd been able to derail Tobin, distract her. If, if, if…ever since, the questions had haunted her at night. 

Still, Ali is trying to look forward, not backwards, and she's excited about tryouts. They need a new Chaser, and possibly other new teammates, though she can't imagine any of her teammates being replaced. So she flies around the pitch—swooping, soaring, looping, diving, searching for imaginary glints of gold, chasing imaginary Snitches—until Boxxy, the rest of the team and the mostly-new, mostly-young Hufflepuffs trying out arrive. Boxxy has to chase away a couple of first-years who snuck in, but once everyone has been identified and introduced, the tryouts begin.

Despite the nerves in her stomach, Ali loses herself in the flying. Sometimes she thinks it's what she was born to do. Quidditch and all that comes with it might be her favorite thing at Hogwarts. She loves her classes, her friends, her life here, but with the wind against her body, the air cool and sweet in her lungs, her mind alert and her eyes keen, flying high and mighty, Ali feels alive. More than that: she feels powerful, like she could do anything in the world. Anything at all. 

She's startled when Boxxy calls them down so the individual tryouts can begin. For a moment, she's worried that her absorption in the air meant a loss of focus, and that she didn't fly as well as she could have, but when Boxxy smiles and claps her on the shoulder as she walks off the pitch, she knows she's done all right. 

Seeker tryouts are always last. Ali tries not to watch the others—it makes her nervous, both for herself and for her teammates. Still, she can't help but cheer silently when Jill makes a particularly good save, or when Whit makes a particularly good goal. At the very least, she doesn't have to worry about the Beaters—Boxxy's the Captain, obviously, and Amy is clearly the best of the people trying out.

One new girl catches her eye. If Ali didn't know better, she'd think the girl was a team veteran, but she's pretty sure she's never seen her before. Quietly, Ali sidles up to Boxxy and asks, in a whisper, who she is. Boxxy smiles and keeps her eyes on the girl, who has just scored three goals on Jill in quick succession—not an easy thing to do. "She's good, isn't she? She's a fourth-year, I think. Her name is Lauren Cheney."

That, at least, is gratifying. The idea of a second-year outflying them all was a little much. "Why hasn't she tried out before?" Ali asks. Boxxy shrugs. "Injury, maybe? I'm not sure." Ali wants to ask if the girl is on the team, but she's pretty sure she knows the answer. 

Results of the tryouts are posted that night. Sure enough, Lauren is their newest Chaser, with no other new additions. Ali's relieved, if not surprised. She celebrates quietly with her teammates, exchanging hugs and words of excitement. Then Boxxy announces an early-morning practice the next day. The girls groan, but it's a groan they enjoy immensely. It's time to get back to work.

When Ali slips into bed that night, she's still smiling, her mind scrolling ahead to all the good times awaiting. It takes her a long time to calm herself down and prepare for sleep. Just as her mind becomes blank, her eyelids become heavy and her breath becomes slow, a memory from the day slips into her mind, startling her.

That day, the fifth-year Hufflepuffs had had their first Potions class of the year. Potions isn't her best class, but it's not her worst, either, so long as she's paying attention. This year, she had decided to focus especially well, as O.W.L.s were already approaching and she wanted to do well. But something—or someone, rather—was distracting her.

The Hufflepuffs don't usually have classes with the Gryffindors. For some reason, the Gryffindors and Slytherins are usually put together, and so are the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. When the two Houses do combine for class, students generally stick with their peers, and the teachers are fine with that. This time, however, not only are the fifth-year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors taking Potions together, but the teacher has decided that in order to promote "inter-House friendships," he's pairing the students—one from each House—together at work stations, for the entire year. 

Naturally, when Ali hears this, she groans and sighs along with the rest of her friends, and parts unhappily from them. But when she meets her partner, she cheers up a bit. 

Ali doesn't know what it is about Ashlyn Harris. Normally, she finds typical Gryffindors—boisterous, noisy, unnecessarily heroic at all times—frankly kind of obnoxious. And Ashlyn Harris is definitely a typical Gryffindor: she begins their Potions partnership with a blinding smile and energetic handshake and immediately dives into a long, rambling story about surfing or something. Ali has difficulty following the story. Not because of the way Ashlyn's hands move or the way her eyes sparkle when she reaches an exciting or interesting or funny part or the way she smiles at Ali. Ashlyn just talks fast, that's all. 

And she's definitely loud. Unbeknownst to Ali, Ashlyn is good friends with Sarah—such good friends, in fact, that Sarah doesn't even blink when Ashlyn starts including her in their conversation, despite the fact that Sarah is all the way across the room and their teacher is looking at Ashlyn with a weary expression. Ali expects he's used to Ashlyn.

(Later, when she shares that thought with Sarah, Sarah laughs. "You never get used to Ashlyn," she says. "And if you do, it's because you're not paying close enough attention." Somehow, Ali thinks she can see that). 

And Ashlyn is one hundred percent absolutely unnecessarily heroic. It's annoying, Ali thinks. All she had done was trip. Granted, she was holding the small knife she uses for cutting roots, she had gone awfully pale and she had spilled some of their potion on herself, making her go all woozy in the head. But there was really no reason for Ashlyn to insist on carrying her to the Hospital Wing, even though their teacher had said she needed support. 

Still, the memory that slips into Ali's head isn't one of irritation, though she knows she pouted all the way out of the Dungeon and to the Hospital Wing. It's funny—in Ashlyn's arms, she had felt embarrassed by the situation, generally irritated by Ashlyn's antics, frustrated with herself…and some other emotion that she hadn't been able to and still couldn't name. Some odd emotion that came from Ashlyn's ability to carry her all the way there without even getting red in the face, Ashlyn's hair falling over Ali's shoulders when Ashlyn moved her head, Ashlyn's arms under her back and legs. Since Ali was feeling all this, and pouting, she had failed to alert Ashlyn to a small chair in the hall. 

There was a moment where Ali was worried Ashlyn would drop her, and she was all ready to be angry and self-righteous about it. But, though Ashlyn stumbled, Ali felt her arms wrap around even tighter, and then it was over. She was still in Ashlyn's arms, she was safe and Ashlyn was grinning down at her. "Sorry," Ashlyn had said. "Didn't see that."

She had kept walking, they'd gotten to the Hospital Wing, the nurse had given Ali something to drink and they'd gone back to class. With the excitement of tryouts, the whole incident had completely slipped her mind.

But when Ali's on the brink of sleep, and her eyes are heavy and her breathing is slow and she's waiting to fall into unconsciousness, Ashlyn's smile comes back into her mind.

She's too close to sleep to move, or react, or even remember it fully. But she wakes up in the morning with a smile curving her mouth, and her body curled up into itself, as if Ashlyn's arms are still holding her.


End file.
